Page 22 of Beautiful Ugly
“You’re sure I can’t tempt you to a second helping?” Midge asks, eyes hopeful and wide.
“No,” I reply a little too fast, and Sandy hides a smile with her napkin. “I couldn’t eat another bite, but thank you. If the rest of the islanders are as friendly as you, then I’ll have a hard time leaving.”
Midge smiles. “There are only twenty-five of us on the island, but that’s still a lot of new names and faces to remember. Where’s that map of yours?”
I find it and hand it to her. Midge unfolds the map of the island and lays it flat on the wooden table, trying—and failing—to smooth out the creases in it with her palm. “So, the first thing to remember is that only a handful of us were born on Amberly, and Sandy is the only one who has lived here all her life.”
“You haven’t?”
It’s hard to see beneath all the makeup, but I think Midge might be blushing now.
“No, I left for a while. I had dreams of being an actress, and my chances of becoming a movie star on a tiny island where half the population didn’t even own a TV seemed slim. So I worked hard, saved hard, and booked a one-way ticket to Hollywood. But the dream I had spent my whole life chasing turned out to be a nightmare. After a lot of auditions I did get cast in a handful of small roles, but my name was never in lights. The world didn’t see me the way I saw myself, and the reality of that—of not being good enough—crushed me. Soon producers were only offering me parts in exchange for things that I didn’t want to do. All of them were men back then, and it was rarely my talent they were interested in.I became very sad and very lonely very quickly. Sandy paid for me to come home, and I realized that everything I needed to make me happy was right here. On the island. The rest of the islanders feel the same. Almost everyone living on the island now came here in search of a new beginning and a different end. The eternal human quest for happiness. I wonder why you’re really here?”
She stares at me. They both do. Then Midge laughs.
“I’m only teasing. We all know why you’re here,” she says. They both stare at me again and I feel so uncomfortable I think I’m starting to sweat. “To write a new book, silly!”
We all laugh then but I can’t wait to leave. I don’t get out much—or at all—but the people here really are a bit strange.
“Yes,” I say, nodding and taking another sip of wine. “To write a new book.”
She makes it sound so simple.
Midge leans closer and whispers, “And have you started? Writing the new book?”
I nod. “Early days, but I’ve got it all plotted out.”
Sandy smiles, pats me hard on the back. A little too hard. “Good. For. You.”
“Good for you, good for us,” Midge says, clinking her glass with mine. “And we don’t want you getting lost before you finish the book, so pay attention. You arehere.” She stabs the drawing of the House on the Hill on the map with a pink fingernail. I can’t help remembering the you are not here on the wooden sign when I arrived. Midge starts to count on her fingers. “We’re your nearest neighbors. Most people live in ‘the village’ as we like to call it. Let’s see, who should you know? Cora Christie runs the corner shop—”
“He’s met her already,” Sandy says. “Made a first impression that she won’t forget.”
“Oh dear,” Midge says, shaking her head. “I hope you didn’t tell her too much. That woman loves scuttlebutt.” I must lookconfused. “Gossip,” she explains. Seems to me Midge may as well be describing herself. “The whole island will be talking about you now but never mind, everyone knows she’s completely mad. You might have noticed she was dressed all in green?” I nod. “Cora has worn nothing but green clothes since I’ve known her. Like a little leprechaun ferreting about the place.Greensweaters,greenskirts,greenunderwear—apparently—she thinks wearing any other color is bad luck. If you like a drink, and from what I’ve seen tonight, I think you do, Sidney and Bella King are the landlords of The Stumble Inn, Amberly’s only pub. Then there’s Jack, a master builder who trained on the mainland donkey’s years ago but then came home to Amberly. It’s been a long time since any new houses were built here, but we get a lot of storms and there’s always something Jack needs to fix after. Good with plumbing, wiring, woodwork, thatching... there’s nothing Jack can’t do. Who else? Travers and family live at The Croft right on the other side of the island, away from everyone else. Travers is fondly known as our tree doctor and takes care of all the ancient redwoods.”
Sandy nods. “Nice family. They have a little girl called Holly and a big dog called Ivy.”
My mind wanders to Abby, as it so often does, and I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.
Midge continues, oblivious. “There’s the hairdresser, Mrs. Sharp. Her smile is as rare as a unicorn, but she’s good with scissors. I’ve lost count again; who am I forgetting?”
“Surely there’s a doctor?” I ask.
“Of course, Dr. Highsmith, but she doesn’t live on Amberly. She visits every Tuesday from the nearest other island. Unless the sea is too rough for the ferry to sail. So I suggest you only get ill on a Tuesday, and only if the weather is good. Did Sandy tell you she was the island sheriffandthe ferrywoman?” Midge asks. “She might be a handy resource for your next crime novel!”
“Sandy said there wasn’t any crime on Amberly.”
“Well, technically no and notrecently,” Midge says. “Not even a case of petty theft in over twenty years since Sandy took over. Where else in the world can you say that? But there was something strange that happened almost exactly a year ago—”
“It’s late. We should let Grady go home,” Sandy interrupts.
“What happened here last year?” I ask.
Midge leans across the table. “Well—”
“Come on, I’ll give you a lift,” Sandy says, but Midge continues.
“There was a visitor who came and never left. A woman—”